Hetalia: I'll Be There
by Bai-Marionette
Summary: Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai
1. Saved From Pain

**I'll Be There**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

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_Prologue_

When Alfred Foster-Abraham Jones, or more commonly known as simply Alfred F. Jones when he was older, was born; it was the start of his bittersweet life. First of all, when he was born, it was Independence Day and the exact day his mother became a widow when his father was killed in action. Don't get the wrong idea, Alfred's mother loved him very well much…well, that is, until Alfred grew older and his body showed off just who he would look like.

Then, she slowly increased the distance between the two of them. She grew a bit more hesitant to kiss him before he went to sleep, she didn't hug him as much, and she rarely sat by the window to watch him play. In fact, she hadn't come out of her room for more than a week. While, Alfred was afraid, he knew better than to come in. He still had the remnants of his punishment for coming in uninvited.

But one day, that very absence would be the very same thing to both mark that day as one of Alfred's scariest day in his little toddler days, more than anything else, and also the day to make him the happiest he'd ever been.

Alfred was playing, when the attention of blue eyes was taken from the red fire truck in his tiny hands to the pretty-pretty yellow butterfly. He hadn't even realized he had stood, left his shiny truck behind, and was chasing after it until he was well out of his mother's sitting window's sight.

He was laughing merrily into the warm summer day, and he hadn't even realized he was out of his family's property lines…and going closer to traffic. But, he hadn't even known it. He was busy chasing after the pretty-pretty butterfly to see the incoming grey car. He was busy hearing his own laughter to even hear the car's frantic honking.

It wasn't until the pretty-pretty was ultimately caught in the beak of a flitting local bird that Alfred realized he was well away from home. Oh, and that car was getting awfully close. He turned his head, blue eyes wide with terror, as his mouth opened in a scream—

When he was caught around the waist, and hoisted free from danger.

"Nyet, poor child," an accented voice asked, "Are you alright?" Alfred was too busy crying to answer. He barely found himself remembering opening his eyes, and seeing a pair of soft violet eyes looking back at him. His hero was male, with really pretty eyes, Alfred thought, with a sniffle. They also had a big nose, bigger than his little button one.

He felt himself whimper, as he was shifted in their arms, and fitted to their hip. They were still holding him. They were still holding him, despite how his mother didn't do it as much as she used to. Alfred found himself wondering why. His mother didn't hold him this long, if she could help it. That's why Alfred had taken to walking sooner than most kids. He just had to learn how to tie his own shoes. But it was okay. He was left on his own a lot, he would learn it himself eventually.

"Yao, look at him," he heard the man with pretty eyes say to a shorter man beside him. The one named "Yao" had strange and slanted brown-yellowish eyes and he was also pale. Yao's eyes widened slightly, as he shifted the small stuffed panda bear in his arms. "Ivan," he began to ask, his eyes taking on a worried look. "Where did you find him, aru? Where is his mother?"

Ivan- that was his hero's name- face turned concerned as well. Alfred began to grow afraid. He was having a bit of a hard time understanding them. But from their tones of voice, Alfred began to grow more afraid. Tears sprung to his eyes, once more, as he thought they were going to leave him in an unknown part of town.

He hadn't meant to run off. He wouldn't do it again, he would promise! He would even eat the green things he sometimes got at dinner, if it meant they wouldn't leave him all alone. He was sorry. He wouldn't do it again.

"Oh, he's crying again," Ivan said, and shifted Alfred to lay his head on his shoulder. Alfred was still crying, as Ivan tried to soothe him, and rub small circles in his back. Yao sighed, "We need to find his mother, aru…"

Alfred was scared, he was so scared. But soon enough, he found the tears to stop and turn to mere whimpers, as Ivan began some soft lullaby and rub circles in his back. He felt better somehow, hearing it, even though he couldn't understand it. Ivan was saying words he didn't know, was it English? It didn't sound like it, but then again, Alfred couldn't start school until August. Maybe, he would learn those words then.

Pretty soon, Alfred was silent, save for the occasional whimper here and there, as Ivan's lullaby continued. Yao had taken to scoping out the small area for any woman or young teenaged girl looking for a lost child. They only came across one woman, but she said Alfred wasn't hers. This saddened both Yao and Ivan. Alfred had to have come from somewhere.

However, the woman did say he looked familiar. After a moment of thought, she said she remembered Alfred from a friend of hers who lived in Alfred's neighborhood. It was pure chance, that Alfred and Ivan shared the same neighborhood. By greater luck still, Ivan was only a few houses down.

Yao was still dumbstruck by the turn of luck and odds, as all of them walked to put Alfred back where his mother was. "Well…" he began, "That was lucky, aru…"

Ivan giggled, as he agreed, "Da, it was good luck. We can take the little guy back where he belongs." The violet-eyed male smiled, as he smoothed Alfred's hair. The small laughter that rang out seemed almost angelic, as it came from the little blonde's mouth and made Yao and Ivan smile. But then, Yao frowned. "Wait, what if he ran away?"

Ivan paused, as he frowned, "What? Why would he do that? He's just a child, Yao…" Ivan was confused, and Alfred turned from playing with the pale scarf wound around Ivan's neck, to pay attention to Yao. "Just hear me out," Yao begin, "I think he may have run away. Maybe, it was unintentionally, but doesn't he look a bit skinny to you?"

Ivan blinked and then looked down at Alfred, blue eyes met violet hues, and Alfred laughed as he reached for the older male's nose. "You have a nose," Alfred chirped. He had only been trying to lighten up the other's sad face, and make the other stop making him sad, but his actions backfired.

His arm rose, and his shirt lifted up slightly. It was a bit baggy on him, since his mother often forgot to cook, during some of her frequent moods. She would forget about him, and Alfred would have to sneak downstairs to find something to eat when he grew hungry.

Ivan saw the somewhat too skinny belly and the slight impression of ribs on such an otherwise healthy little boy. "You are right, da…" Ivan said, looking to the other male. "Should we buy something for him to eat?"

"Like what?" Yao asked, but after a slight hesitation, he said, "We could feed him at your house. I don't think he should have my food just yet. He seems a bit young…" Ivan frowned, as he held Alfred tighter. He nodded, "Da, I can make something. My sister shouldn't mind the extra mouth. She likes cooking with me."

So, with that in mind, they kept walking. Alfred tried multiple times to make them laugh, to get those serious looks off their faces, but he found that he only succeeding before his plan backfired. He had tried playing with Ivan, but all that did was give Yao another piece of false evidence of child abuse, when he showed his slightly scarred hands and arms.

But, Alfred knew his mother didn't hurt him. At least, she hadn't meant to, when he didn't deserve it. Those scars were from when Alfred used to play with the neighbor's dogs. They had sharp claws, and sometimes he got hurt. He promised his mother didn't hurt him…when he didn't deserve it, for looking like someone he had never known.

By the time, the trio had made it to Ivan's house; it was growing closer to nightfall. Alfred didn't like the dark. It was scary, despite how often he was left on his own when his mother didn't show him how to turn on the night light or turn on the big lamp on the ceiling. It didn't help that his eyesight might have been slowly suffering from it.

Upon entering the house, Alfred felt himself snatched from Ivan by someone else. His first response was to cry. Blue eyes watered, and his mouth opened as he began crying. His cheeks flushed, as tears ran down them. A moment after he started crying, he heard someone else start crying.

Of course, it was Ivan's older sister, Katyusha. She had been told by Yao, via a text message, that he and Ivan had found a child on the way home and were bringing him over to eat something since he looked like he hadn't had a good meal in a while. She had immediately replied back, asking why was there a child without a parent, and if he was alright.

Yao told her that they didn't know who Alfred's parents were, but that they knew his address. Yao tried to slip something about Alfred's scars, but Ivan had told him not to. The other male would ultimately have to deal with his sobbing mess of a sister if Yao told her they had found an abused toddler by the crossroads.

"I'm sorry," Katyusha sobbed, as she tried bouncing Alfred in her arms. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry! Please, stop crying, little one!" She was bawling, and Yao tried to reassure her, as he tried to take the child from her. Alfred reacted even worse to Yao's attempt than he had to Katyusha. He was struggling to get away, and weakly pounding his fists on all of the available places he could reach.

Although, though Alfred meant to be weak in his attempts to hit the other, he was actually creating the light beginnings of bruises in his wake. "Ow!" Yao cried, wincing with each blow, "Ow, ow, ow! Please stop, aru! Ow!"

Ultimately, Ivan tried to intervene, and his attempt shocked everyone with how suddenly Alfred lost his fight. He was still crying, but not sobbing like he had been and he wasn't hitting Ivan like he had done Yao. Instead, he was clinging to Ivan's shirt and trying to bury his face in said male's scarf. His crying soon turned to whimpers, and eventually sweet silence.

"Is he o-okay?" Katyusha asked, wiping her eyes hurriedly. "Did I hold him wrong?" She looked mournfully, down at her chest, "M-Maybe it was th-these, maybe he didn't l-like them." She began to start crying once more, "Wh-what did I do wrong? I-I thought I was good with children."

Yao didn't know what to say, but Ivan did and jumped at the opportunity to cease his big sister's crying and fears. "Nyet, no, you're very good with children, Katyusha. You probably just scared him, that's all…" He hoped his lie was believable enough to pacify his big sister. She was so emotional, and very easily upset. Most of her problems, she ended up blaming her breasts for. Like that one trip to the store and how she had cried about knocking over a magazine rack, when she leaned in to read one's title more closely…

"R-really?" Katyusha asked, with a hiccup, as she wiped her eyes once more. "You don't think it was all m-my fault?" Ivan nodded, his head, as Yao chimed in, "No, it was most certainly not your fault. He's probably also a bit cranky. He might be hungry, we should get dinner started."

Katyusha's light blue eyes lit up, as she remembered. "Oh right," she said, as she darted to the kitchen. "What should we have? Natalia is still getting over her loose tooth, so we can't have hard food." She looked to Alfred, who meekly smiled at her. He saw how brightly she smiled back, as she said, "We could have some pelmeni. Would that be okay?"

Ivan nodded, "The dumplings should be fine. I don't know how accustomed to hard foods, he is, but we'll be on the safe side." He smiled at Alfred, "Is that alright, little guy?" The gesture of warmth made Alfred smile back, and reach for his nose once more.

Ivan giggled, Yao rolling his eyes but eventually smiling at the cute scene. Ivan loved children, but unfortunately, due to some moments in his past he was afraid to have any. Katyusha was usually working to keep a roof over Ivan and their baby sister, and though she was constantly approached by men, she knew what they really wanted versus what she always hoped for.

She had decided after a recent let down, she was going to stop dating until she thought men would have more respect for her. So far, men still came up to her, but she kept turning them down, saying she wasn't interested in anything they had to offer.

Katyusha was busy talking to herself of what else to make, as Ivan turned to Alfred, and asked, "Little one, can you behave for my friend Yao, so I can help with dinner?" Alfred listened, but then shook his head. He had only heard the name Yao and said no. He didn't like Yao too much.

Ivan smiled sadly, and then asked, "Well, can you walk beside me, and try not to be accidentally step on?" Yao made a face at that, but at Alfred's giggle and nod, he calmed slightly. Ivan held his breath, and slowly eased Alfred down. At first, Alfred clung to his arms, as if afraid he would be dropped, but then his little sneakered feet touched the ground.

There was a slight pause, as Alfred kept one hand tightly clutched in Ivan's pant leg. Yao smiled, and Ivan giggled, "I think he likes me." Alfred smiled, staying within close range of Ivan, whilst still looking around. The room he was in looked like his living room, but it had different photos on the wall and there was a small dining table at the far end with four chairs.

He felt Ivan turn, and moved with him to follow, though it was somewhat difficult with long short his legs were compared to Ivan's. But, Alfred kept trying, and when Ivan stopped, he shadowed the action. Then, the smell of dinner caught around his nose and refused to let go. His mouth was already watering. At this point in time, he told himself he wouldn't mind eating a few green things if it tasted good.

It was while he was too busy paying attention to Ivan's hand motions on the counter that he missed Katyusha bending down and extending a little piece of food towards him. He inched behind Ivan, afraid, and only stopped to realize that the food smelled good.

He poked his head out, hearing Ivan chuckle, and saw Katyusha still extending the piece of food towards him. "Here you go," she said, softly, and Alfred felt himself smile a bit. She sounded so nice. She couldn't be bad, if she seemed nice, right?

Alfred reached out his hand, albeit shakily, and took the piece quickly. He looked at it, and saw it was just a warm white triangle in his hand. He frowned, and then shrugged as he popped the food in his mouth. He chewed, and then his eyes widened, as he found that the food tasted really good. It tasted better than it smelled!

He smiled, chewing, and Katyusha smiled back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, little baby," she said, as she reached out and touched his cheek. At first, Alfred stiffened, and then Katyusha frowned. She leaned a bit forward, and Alfred ducked his head. Ivan looked down, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"He's got bruises on his collar," Katyusha began to say, as some tears came to her eyes, "I can see them now because I was just going to touch his face." She sniffled, and Alfred tore her hand from him and hid behind Ivan. Said man looked down, and he could barely see, just underneath the collar of Alfred's shirt, the sight of old bruises.

He didn't know what to say, at first, but then he sighed. "Maybe, we should keep him." Katyusha looked up, "Ivan! He isn't a pet, he's a child! We can't—"

"I know," Ivan said, "But I don't think he's being treated very well at home." Katyusha said nothing, for a while, and Ivan continued, "What if we bring him back, and he comes back to us, big sister? What if it's worse?"

"We would still be suspects, Ivan, if we turn this into the police," she explained. "We are not family, and we are not friends of the family either. They could turn it against us." Ivan said nothing, as he just watched Alfred try to hide behind his leg. He sighed.

"Fine," he said, knowing it was for the best. "We'll give him back after dinner." Katyusha nodded, and then they both started, as Yao asked, "Wait…what if no one comes to the door, aru?" Both siblings were quiet, and then Ivan said, as he turned to Katyusha, "We can keep him then, da?"

Katyusha bit her lip, and after a few moments, said, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, alright?" Both Yao and Ivan nodded, deciding it was for the best not to worry. Alfred eventually came out of hiding, just as Natalya came in. She was still young, seeing as Ivan was in middle school and Katyusha in high school while their father was…away.

Natalya took one look at Alfred, and frowned, "Who is he, big brother?" Ivan looked down at his baby sister, albeit with slight fear, and said, "Just a little someone we picked up on the way home." Yao watched from a chair at the table.

Natalya raised a brow, "Like a hooker?"

Katyusha tried a disapproving glare, "Now, Natalya! You take that back, right now. That's not nice." Said child shrugged, and said, "Whatever, let me know when dinner is ready." Then, she turned and walked away. Alfred stared after her, like everyone else, deciding he liked her less than Yao. At least Yao tried to nice to him.

Dinner finished soon after, and while Yao went to Natalya, Katyusha was reminded of their chair problem. She turned to Ivan, "Do you mind? We're short of a chair…"

Ivan shook his head, "Nyet, it is fine." He sat in his chair, Natalya coming in to sit by his left, and Yao to his right. Alfred sat in Ivan's lap, eyeing the food in front of him. Katyusha sat at the head of the table, and immediately tried for light conversation. She was successful, for the most part, unless it was directed at Natalya unless Ivan asked her something to which she would always quickly reply.

But then…dinner ended, and Ivan felt a small disappointment, knowing what came next. Yao went with them, as Ivan promised to be quick and Yao said goodbye to go home after going with Ivan. The walk was quiet, as Alfred lay on Ivan's shoulder, falling asleep after a good meal.

Too soon, they came to the house, the woman told of. Ivan bit his lip, walked up the steps and then knocked on the door. Yao stood out at the curb, as Ivan waited for someone to answer. But after a few minutes of nothing, Ivan frowned and knocked again.

He waited longer and still nothing. It was already dark, and Ivan was growing worried. Was the family asleep? Could they hear him knocking? Ivan couldn't ask Alfred who he lived with, or if they were home at all, because the boy was asleep.

So instead, he sighed, and turned on a heel. He looked to Yao and shook his head, "No one answered." Yao frowned, as he looked back at the house. He could see dust gathering at the corners of the windows. Whoever lived there did not take very good care of it. He wondered how Alfred had lived…Then, after he had heard the slight words between Ivan and Katyusha on finding marks on Alfred, he decided he didn't want to know.

But still, the Asian frowned, as he saw how much Ivan was thinking about it as well. Both of their minds were wondering about the little boy currently sleeping innocently in Ivan's arms. Both wondered how the little boy had lived.

**Both wondered if the boy had really intentionally run away…**

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**How was it? **

I had meant for this to be a one-shot, but it kept going on, and somehow ended up being like five chapters long…-_-

This will be short, and NO, they will be no smut between these two. I don't like pedophilia, and personally, I find it disturbing.

You'll find what I meant with the shounen-ai in the description later on in the story.

**READ AND ****REVIEW.**

**EDIT: **I have no idea why this got rated as K+...I thought I put it as T. Huh, shows what I get for posting in the morning rather than my usual afternoons.


	2. Behind the Curtains

**I'll Be There**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: ** PrussiaRocks, LasagnaLover, xXxBurplexXx, Animaegan, nadzuke eno mono, shadowwolf64, FullmetalShinigami21096, Apocalypse Angel Laiceica, GilbirdAttack, emismpunk, CluelessHuman, knyghtstar, HoneySweetSins, Fireshadow242**

Reviewer(s)!: ** Animaegan, nadzuke eno mono, GilbirdAttack**

PrussiaRocks: Yes, yes, he does. :P

Animaegan: I'm glad you find it cute, thank you for reviewing.

nadzuke eno mono: I'll take that as you found it cute. And yes, Alfred was. I placed hints in it, but I have to up the rating to T because I'm going beyond references now. :/

GilbirdAttack: ^^ I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and here it is! :)

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**Recommended Listening: **"I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

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Two days, two whole days, and not a peep whenever Ivan or his older sister, Katyusha, had tried to return Alfred to his home. No one ever answered. Not only that, but Alfred refused to speak about home. They had gotten him to speak, while Ivan did, when he had asked if the little boy wanted to go for a walk with him, but whenever the topic of going home came up – Alfred went quiet.

Neither of the older siblings so much liked how Alfred went quiet either. He would just sit there, fold his hands in his lap, and his blue eyes would darken ever so slightly as if his mind was retreating somewhere else to escape. But what was the boy escaping? What was he running from? What did he have to run from? He was just a child. He didn't have anything to run from, did he?

Ivan sighed. It was on the third day, and while, the teen enjoyed the little Alfred's company, he was beginning to worry even more. Maybe he and his sister should go the police. Because it was obvious, that Alfred's mother was not answering the door. She might have packed up and left, for all he knew.

The Russian teen looked up ahead, and then his eyes widened slightly, as he saw an unfamiliar car in the driveway. It was a man…that was a guy, right?

Anyways, a figure was coming out of the unfamiliar car, and making a short dash up to the porch to knock harshly on the door. They had messy blonde hair, and they were short. Alfred turned from where he had been playing with Ivan's scarf, and enjoying himself in simple childlike amusement, and then he saw the figure.

Blue eyes widened, and Alfred called out, "Artie!" Not even a split second after the pet name left his lips; the figure spun and was all but running down the street to come to a screeching halt in front of Ivan. Said Russian blinked, and barely muttered an "Um…? Hello there, do you know this child?"

Ivan hated the way the words came out of his mouth, but he couldn't really do much better. He was still at a lost as to what to say. The figure was indeed male; his figure only feminine in some places, but looked to be male. His hair was even messier up close, and he had bright emerald eyes.

"Oh Bless the Queen," the figure spoke in an accent that Ivan recognized as British. "Where is your mother?" The figure had to lean up a bit, seeing as he was much shorter than Ivan, something he didn't seem too pleased with, to try and take Alfred.

Alfred smiled a bit, even giggling as he patted the man's large eyebrows. Ivan looked down at his empty arms, a small feeling of emptiness there, but one he easily pushed aside. Alfred wasn't even his kid. He shouldn't be feeling anything.

"Excuse me, um, sir?" Ivan said, trying to get the other's attention. Alfred continued to busy himself with further messing with the shorter man's hair. But the other's attention was on him, which might not have been a good thing, considering how his eyes were narrowing to thin green slits.

"Why did you have my nephew?" he hissed, and Ivan frowned, taking a step back, before he had even realized he had done it. He held up his hands in a show of no harm, and said, "I didn't do anything to him. I found a couple of days ago, walking with my friend, playing in the street and on the other end of the neighborhood."

The figure's eyes narrowed further, showing he didn't believe Ivan. He even said so, "I don't have any reason to believe you." He scoffed, taking a step back, and just trying to content themselves with glaring at Ivan, "How long have you had Alfred?"

Ivan sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere with this. He tried again, "Look, sir, I mean no harm." A tightened grip on Alfred was seen, but the boy in question didn't notice. Or maybe he did, and was only really good at acting oblivious. Meanwhile, Ivan continued, pointing to Alfred's house. "But I've gone to the house several times, over the past few days, and no one has answered."

The man's grip slackened a bit, his eyes darkened and his gaze breaking shortly to look back at the house. "No one answered the door…?" Ivan slowly shook his head, not trusting his voice, as he hoped that the other male would see he wasn't a threat. Ivan didn't so much like being glared at or hated. He had enough problems, as it was, during school.

The figure frowned, and his face grew more worried than angry. He turned back to Ivan, shifting Alfred to a hip, and extended his hand. He almost looked apologetic. "I apologize. I don't have much reason to trust you, but you seem honest. I'm Arthur, Alfred's uncle."

Ivan shook his hand, as he introduced himself. "I'm Ivan. I live down the street, if you wanted to know." He wasn't trying to not pry too much, asked, "Uncle? You barely—"

"Look twenty-one?" Arthur said, smirking slightly, as he pulled his hand away. "I know. I get it a lot, don't mind it so much. Alfred is my older sister's son. I'm the youngest." Ivan nodded. That made some sense. But then he frowned, "Have you tried calling your sister?"

Arthur sighed, "We've all been trying to get in contact with her for a month. But she refuses to pick up, much less answer the door to any of her brothers. She usually answers for me, but recently….she hasn't." Ivan frowned, and both older males looked back at the house.

There were no disturbances behind the dark windows. The curtains were still pulled tight. The door was still shut. The lawn needed mowing. The tree's leaves needed to kept up with. The porch light wasn't on, and while it was only mid-late afternoon, all too soon, it would be dark. But no one turned it on.

"Nothing?" Ivan asked, and Arthur shook his head.

"No," he said, "nothing. It's as if she doesn't even live there anymore…" Ivan's frown grew deeper, and then he bit his lip gently. He turned to Arthur, who looked up to meet his gaze. Ivan voiced his suggestion, "I think we should call the police…"

Arthur was silent for a moment, as he looked down at his hip where Alfred had decided to take a nap on. The Englishman looked back up, "You might be right, lad. I'll see what I can do."

Ivan nodded, and after Ivan convinced the other to take his cell phone in case something had actually happened, Ivan said good-bye to the sleeping boy he had watched over for three days and walked home. He was rounding a corner, as he saw from the corner of his eye, that Arthur was talking to someone on his phone while trying to strap Alfred in his car.

Ivan paused as he was a few houses short of his own home. He put a finger to his lip in thought, his fingers worrying his scarf, as he frowned. He looked back, and pretended he could still make out the rooftops of Alfred's house. He pretended he could see a face looking back at him in one of the back windows, face stoic and somewhat glaring at him, before shutting the curtains once more.

**What was going on within the house…?**

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**How was this chapter? **

I was working on this story again, guys, and it stretched. It's sort of a mystery story, though not really. ^^

AGAIN, no pedo-anybody, and I will introduce more things and/or characters soon. Things are going to pick up soon, guys, just give me time.

Also, I should congratulate**:** **Animaegan, nadzuke eno mono, GilbirdAttack. **Thank you for being my first reviewers, guys. I give you cyber hugs. To everyone who made this a favorite and/or alerted it, I give you cyber cookies. :3

**Danke for your support—**

**READ AND ****REVIEW.**


	3. Do You Really Want to Know?

**I'll Be There**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: **Animateia, Sora Moto, The Vampire Alchemist, ChibiHetalia, Leylani-sama, Neverwinternightsgirl777, Ayai, AllyMCainey, Maxiay, ChildofStorms, **

Reviewer(s)!: ** PrussiaRocks, Leylani-sama, Animaegan, Neverwinternightsgirl777, Guest, easha, GilbirdAttack, Hello**

PrussiaRocks: I'm happy to hear that you enjoy this story and await more of its updates. Alfred's mom is going to be a bit difficult, not to write, but to Arthur/Ivan. And yes! Engwand is HERE! :D

Leylani-sama: Alfred's mother's reasons are a mystery. You'll soon find that Alfred has scars from mother, as well, beyond the physical ones. *le gasp* Yes, our dear and beloved Russian is not Mr. Popular like in my other stories. Yes, Ivan dies, but not for a while. It is Alfred loving Ivan. Ivan does not love Alfred, well, not in that way.

Animaegan: Yes, an English appearance. ^^ Good luck trying to catch up with my stories! :D

Neverwinternightsgirl777: I'm glad you think so, and yes, Ivan play detective! XD I will continue this story. It's fun to write.

Guest: Update is here. Read it. Now. Danke.

easha: Suspense is fun! And you were spot on with it, she does have post-natal depression. Now, what else does she suffer from? Have you guessed it yet? (Yes, leave the writing to me, it will get done sooner, that way.)

GilbirdAttack: Yes, our favorite Englishman is here. I know what's going on with her. But I'm allowed to say it. Author's Responsibilities and Notations, Section 39 of Paragraph 12: Rule #456 on page 682. ["Authors are not allowed to give out key plot elements and/or secrets. This is prohibited against, as it takes off from the allure of a good and suspenseful story."] XD

I tried to give hints as to who she is: she's England's sister. (Think. Ja! Leave the work to Ivan. *hides with you* G-go away, Belarus…)

Hello: Gladly, I like working with this story. I'm happy to hear that your interest was caught by it. ^_^

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**Recommended Listening: **"I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

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Arthur was both overjoyed and suspicious of how his nephew was in his backseat, sleeping soundly, with only a few tears tracks drying on his little pudgy face. Arthur checked his mirror, and saw that Alfred was still asleep; he bit his lip, but made a careful turn into a residential area. His apartment was coming up, and he parked his car.

As he left his seat, he looked back at Alfred, and tried to remove the child carefully. He was nearly up the stairs, when he started thinking. Like really thinking of everything he knew so far.

His sister was either missing, or out of her mind to not have retrieved her child.

Alfred had strange bruising and scars, that Arthur knew weren't there the last time he had gone to visit his nephew in the last year.

He really needed to get with the authorities on this.

Arthur sighed, as he sat Alfred on his hip, and used his foot to shut the car door behind him. He was walking up his stairs, enjoying the sun's warmth on him, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He rolled his eyes. He had a child in his arms; did they really expect him to answer?

Ignoring the frantic buzzing, and the muffled voicemail afterwards, he continued on up. He heard a few women coo at the sleeping child on him, a few asking if it was his and Arthur having to say no and that he was just an uncle. He didn't want to be rude, but some days, he wished he wasn't raised by his mother.

Speaking of mothers…

What the Hell had happened to Alfred and his mother, when he had left almost a year ago? It was late now, the Englishman realized. He hadn't even noticed, the sun had gone down and was now replaced with a half-full moon. The stars were just starting to come out.

Arthur blinked, trying to remember where time had gone. He had come home, and tried to cook for Alfred, but failed. So he had ultimately called an old roommate and 'asked' him to make something. It had nice at first, when Francis had taken to Alfred almost immediately. But Alfred had hid under the bed, and it taken nearly half an hour to convince the child, that Francis was a friendly frog.

Even after, Alfred wasn't much convinced, and he ate by Arthur's side. Francis had tried to act like it hadn't bothered him, but Arthur knew better. Francis had volunteered to watch the boy, while Arthur ran a few errands. But when he came back, not even an hour later, he found Alfred crying under the bed yet again.

This time, Arthur hadn't been able to fully console him. Francis said he hadn't done anything, and that he only offered to give the boy a treat if they played a game, but Alfred had cried and ran off. Arthur had apologized, and while Francis was still confused about the situation, he had said he was going back to his own loft.

Arthur had shut the door behind him, and tucked in a sleeping Alfred into his bed, Arthur could sleep on the couch, tonight. But before the Englishman could tuck the boy into bed, he given him a bath and found it unusual that Alfred tried to keep his back from sight the whole time.

So there Arthur was now, as he paused in writing the rough draft of his paper, his motions stilling to almost and then nothing. He just sat there, at his desk, thinking deeply. His pen tapped out a rhythmic tune against the wooden surface.

Green eyes rose from the series of papers on his desk, with their red and blue ink, yellow highlighter, and his laptop with a half-finished research paper, and then he looked to the nearest window. The little window above the apartment kitchen sink, its little view boasted a pretty sight of the little pond and willow below.

But Arthur's mind was far from his downstairs oasis; his mind was on the odd reaction coming from his nephew. That teenager, Ivan, hadn't looked like the type to beat or frighten children. He looked like an introvert, like Arthur had been in his teen years.

Arthur tilted his head, a bit, thinking on everything he knew at that moment. He listened to the sound of the city outside his window, the faint hum of passing cars below, and the tiny _click-clack_ of pedestrians passing his building by in their daily lives.

He suddenly frowned, as his mind conjured up the image of Alfred' back in the bath, the bruises there. Ivan's face came to his mind, but he immediately dismissed it. Alfred seemed to genuinely like Ivan, and besides the bruises were too old for the past few days that both Alfred and Ivan claimed to have spent together. Not to mention, the bruises didn't look like anything Ivan could have done. They were too long and small, about a slim hand's mark.

The bruising wasn't from Ivan. It was someone else. But the question was, as Arthur pondered on it, right as he heard a series of loud knocks coming from his door. He called out to them, forgetting his little houseguest, and told them he was coming. But he still wondered:

**Did he really want to know?**

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**How was this chapter? **

I was working on this a few days ago…but I fell asleep and totally forgot to post the new chapter. ;.; I'm so sorry! I was so tired; school has really been whipping me back into shape. v.v

My professors don't take shit, and with my German OCD…yeah, a lot of late nights, going: 'It has an end. The numbers will stop…I only have a few more reports and research papers to write. It's okay, there's coffee and Internet…'

But my brother broke my coffee cup SOMEHOW. So now, I'm screwed. v.v

Pray for me~

**READ AND ****REVIEW.**


	4. What Is the Right Answer?

**I'll Be There**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

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The knocking persisted, and Arthur missed the sound of little feet hopping out of bed to the crack in the bedroom door. He missed the sound of Alfred pressing up against the door to listen, as the Englishman unlocked and opened the door to reveal one of his older brothers; this one being Angus, the eldest and the more frequently seen of the brothers with other lives.

"We…" the Scottish man began, and then sighed, as he ran his fingers though his wild and red hair. He stared Arthur down, with cold jade colored eyes. "I think I should come inside."

Arthur was silent, but after a brief but sure look into Angus' eyes, he knew better than to say no. He stepped back, feeling worry and suspicion rise within him, and let the other pass through the doorway. Angus looked down, as he entered, as if he was ashamed in someway by what he was doing or about to say.

Arthur stepped around his older brother, wary of being within range of his arms; he shut the door and then led the short way to his living area. It was as his custom as a gentleman to lead guests where to sit. He asked if the other wanted tea, to which Angus gave him a look and said he'd have water.

As soon as the glass was put forth before him, Angus just blurted: "It's about Erin."

"I know," Arthur replied, as he sat with his tea, already warmed from the microwave. He sat down in the armchair closest to the hall to the bedrooms, his back to Alfred. He took a careful sip, closing his eyes for a second, as he crossed his legs, and then eyed his older brother with a fixed stare. "What have you found?"

"You remember…those days," Angus began, as he drank a heavy but near silent gulp of water, and then sighed deeply. He rubbed his face with calloused hands, as he set the half empty glass down. He began again, "Do you remember the days, with Erin, after – what was his name? Howard?"

"Ah yes," Arthur replied, flatly, and then his emerald eyes narrowed. "I recall those days. She was troublesome, and very moody."

"Arthur," Angus growled, "Be serious here."

"I know, Angus," Arthur said, rolling his eyes, "I remember that year well."

"Do you really?" Angus said, darkly, "How one year ago: how we found her, on the street, crashing down from her high..."

"Except, she was –" Arthur tried to correct him, to interject, when Angus added on, "Pregnant, I remember. She had known earlier and then soon promptly after her little bust, lost the baby."

Both brothers were silent. Erin, their shared sister: Arthur's blood, Angus' step sister. They remembered that year as one of her worst. She had been beyond distraught. Arthur opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again to say, "She said Howard had left her, saying that he hadn't wanted kids."

Angus nodded, and then sighed, as he said, "Then, she met her new love: Reginald."

Arthur scoffed, "And she married him, within a year. She got pregnant." He shook his head. He had never liked Reginald. He didn't agree with his sister's taste in men, but he had some respect for the American solider she married. He was bright, and not just in a happy sense, he was also intelligent.

But Arthur still hadn't liked him, he didn't know for what reason.

"With Alfred, yes…" Angus continued, and his face darkened along with his words, "But then Reginald died overseas."

"Erin acted the same way as Howard," Arthur said, coldly. It was almost as he was disappointed in his sister for breaking so easily. But then again, Arthur and Erin had never been truly close. He might have been feeling his detachment to her grief, with his own detachment to her.

"She stopped taking calls," Angus said, and Arthur nodded.

The Englishman continued, "She seldom went out." His Scottish brother paused, and this led his brother to think the worst. The pregnant silence seemed to drag further on, and seemed intent on driving Arthur insane. The silence dragged on, until Arthur finally snapped out: "Is she dead?"

"…I don't know, Arthur," Angus said, mournfully, "But…"

"But what," Arthur said, things brewing up within himself. He was going to loose it, at some point, he was going to get angry and just run out like he did those few years ago. "Angus?"

"…We found her car," Angus said, as he played with rimming his finger on the glass of water. He didn't meet Arthur's eyes. "Or more correctly, Iren did."

"Where was it?" Arthur asked. He had to know. If he knew the location, then he could at least guess where she was. But his Scottish brother said nothing, as he took a heavy gulp, and then scratched his head, glaring at the floor. He began another silence that sought to drive Arthur mad.

Finally, Arthur had had enough, as he shouted, "Angus! Where is it? Where is Erin's car?"

"It was found by the river," the other finally growled, as he continued to avoid eye contact, "And it's nearly all the way flooded."

Arthur was in near shock. "Oh my God…"

_Please no…_

"We think she crashed…"

_God no…_

"But she left Alfred…" Arthur managed to say, as he tried to hold himself together. Erin had to be alive, she would never…But she…She could have…

"We think she abandoned him…" Angus said, and then shook his head, as Arthur said, "Poor Alfred…"

"Arthur, that's not all," Angus said, and his English brother raised his head. His eyes were already gleaming in the dark, and Angus immediately bit his tongue.

"What else, Angus?" Arthur barked; his frustration and anger starting to get the best of him, "What else has she done?"

"She took all their money: everything, even Alfred's college fund from the bank."

Arthur was stupefied. His frustration with his sister was put aside, as rage became the sole emotion in his current state of mind, as he bellowed out: "She WHAT?"

His teacup barely made it to the table, to avoid a fatal collision with the hardwood floors, as Angus made to stand. He had thought that Arthur would be difficult. Of them all, he was the one to be the most dangerous when it came to anger, though he seldom actually showed it.

"She's gone," Angus said, "But we haven't found her, as her own self, and…Well, but…"

"But what…What else has done, Angus?" Arthur snapped in his rage, he roughly stood, not caring how he looked at the moment, as he fumed. "What else could she possibly have done to further ruin herself? She already relapsed, which is bad enough. She left behind her own, what else has she fucking done?"

Angus' face was unreadable in the dark, as he made to correct the distance between him and his brother, to try and stop Arthur from hurting himself or one of his belongings. He didn't want to wake up Alfred, scare the little boy half to death, because he let Arthur break a lamp. "I think you might want to get Alfred taken to a shrink and a doctor…"

"Alfred is not crazy," Arthur growled, remembering an earlier conversation with his brother on how strangely he said Alfred acted on certain things. "I told you that! He's just misunder—

"I'm not saying he's crazy!" Angus shouted, and Arthur went silent. There came another pregnant silence, in which neither of them said anything, and both brothers just stood tense in the room. Arthur was the first to speak again, his words barely just above a snarl, "Then what are you saying?"

"…I want you to get him tested," Angus snarled, he sighed and then took a step back to clear his head. Arthur's anger was getting the best of him too, and not only that, but getting mad while already worried sick and not having a stiff drink was making his head hurt badly. "Because…I think someone took out some of their frustration out on him…"

Arthur immediately rushed to his sister's defense, despite his earlier claims that had sounded like he was against her. "Erin would never hurt Alfred—

"I never said it was only her."

Angus' words stopped Arthur cold, but his next ones made the Englishman's heart want to plummet. He felt sick, just listening to them. "She might have already started her habit in the house."

"Angus…" He tried to say, as he turned away and looked at the floor. He didn't want to hear anymore. He wasn't being weak, but he really didn't want to know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think that his sister had –

"I think one of her 'lads', bed or bust otherwise," Angus said, coldly, "I think that they might have—"

"I don't want to hear anymore." Arthur suddenly said, interrupting his brother. Francis: how Alfred had reacted to his food; then to Francis, period, when Arthur had left the room for a short period of time. It made all the difference, and yet it made so sense. He felt sick.

_Oh dear God_, Arthur thought, as he tried to resist the urge to hold his middle, as his older brother tried to continue, "Arthur, I'm not finished—"

"Yes, you are," Arthur said, and looked up with his infamous hard look. The look of forest rocks about to cascade down onto someone who had tripped the stone holding the boulder back. Those eyes were now growing angrier, with every moment that Angus remained in his apartment. "Now _leave_," Arthur growled.

"But—" Angus tried to say, but Arthur gave him another look, and then said, "Leave, I need…I need to talk to Alfred."

"But shouldn't you let him sleep?" Angus tried; he had to tell Arthur the last bit. It was crucial that he knew. It…Arthur wouldn't like it, but it would make a Hell of a difference in everyone's safety if the Englishman knew, versus that he didn't.

"Based on what you said," Arthur said flatly, "if Alfred even dares to sleep, he might be having nightmares." Angus said nothing, then silence began again, but then, he sighed and nodded.

"…I'll be back tomorrow," he said. He could tell him then. It was going to be a bad day, tomorrow. "What time do you get off work at the café?"

"Around three," Arthur said, turning away, so that he could walk his eldest brother to the door. "I'll take Alfred with me to keep an eye on him."

"Is that safe?" Angus said, as he frowned, not liking the idea.

"Better than nothing," Arthur shrugged. The schools were in session; Arthur wouldn't be able to find Ivan then, anyways. But hopefully, he wouldn't need to find him. it couldn't get any worse, right?

"Arthur…I'm sorry," Angus said, as he saw how the shorter male quickly unlocked the door and opened it. He wouldn't meet the other's eyes, and he tried to reach out. "I know she wasn't my blood sister, since Father—"

"Angus, stop," Arthur said, stepping back. He didn't like the other touching him, not after when they were younger. Sure, it was a long time ago, and things had been somewhat better between the two, but…some scars never healed. And the one that Angus had given to Arthur would probably never heal for a long time. Maybe never. But still, the Englishman tried to meet the other's eyes, as he said, "it's not your fault."

"…But—"

"We should just focus on finding Erin," Arthur said, dismissing the other's words completely and just going on, as he continued, and looked away, "And keeping Iren from the brink…"

"Right…" Angus said, eventually, as he paused to look out the door. Arthur continued to look in a space behind the other's head. Neither said anything for a long while. The crickets tried to make up for their silence, by singing in the night. In the end, Angus sighed once more that night, and then nodded in dismissal, as he said, "Good night, then."

"…Good night," Arthur said, with a flat tone and an air of detachment. Angus left, and Arthur promptly shut the door, locked it and tried to calm his breathing his shudders. He wouldn't let Angus back in his house anytime soon. He was still irrational around him, and still terribly afraid, underneath his mask of confidence and bravery.

The Englishman paused, and then bit his lip, and jumped into a short-lived sprint to his bedroom. He opened the door suddenly, and found Alfred looking up at him, with wet eyes and a trembling lip. It would seem as if he had heard everything. The poor thing, he had heard it all. And yet, he didn't even know the half of it, while he still knew more than Arthur did.

"Alfred…" He began, as he slid down to his knees, slowly. "I-I'm so sorry, lad." He took the boy into his arms, and though Alfred didn't react immediately besides a stiffen, he held him until he felt the other wrap his short arms around his neck. Once so, he rose as he tried to walk to the bed. Alfred was so much lighter than he remembered…

It made him even sicker to think of why, and how long.

"I'm so sorry," Arthur said, "for all that you've had to go through." He sat down on the soft bed, and tried to soothe Alfred's sudden and infrequent tremors of pain and shaking with a soft and easy-going rock. "I should have been there, but I…I'm sorry, Alfie, please don't hate me."

"I'll get you help," he continued, trying to ease the little boy away from fear, "All your uncles are going to help. We're going to get you help, so you can be happy."

"…M-ma?" Alfred barely managed, over a stammer. His voice was so soft, unlike when he was crying or how he used to sound when he was laughing in pure joy. He was so different, and yet he was the very same Alfred Foster-Abraham Jones as he had ever been. He was an alien in his own skin.

"What was that?" Arthur asked, he didn't think he had heard correctly, what with Alfred's quiet voice versus his old loud and brashness. Had that been taken from him too? What else had his sister allowed to be taken and/or beaten out of her son?

**Did he want to know?**

No, he didn't, but he did want to know: Would it ever come back?

"What about Mama?" Alfred repeated, as he rested his head on Arthur's shoulder. He wanted to feel warmth again, not the bad kind, but the nice one. The one that was safe. Not the one where he was told that if he cried, then he would get in trouble.

"…We'll help her too, Alfie," Arthur said to reassure the child. Alfred made a soft sound, like a sigh, as his body relaxed. He still loved his mother, even if Arthur wondered if he still felt the same about his sister. "If that's what needs to be done, then I'll do it." _Even if I don't want to_, he thought darkly in his mind. "We'll find your mother, and help her."

"..'S not her fault…" Alfred suddenly whimpered, and his voice made Arthur crane his neck to try and look the child in the face. He was about to say something, "Alfie, don't defend her, if she—"

Alfred cut him off, with the beginnings of his tears and a painful sounding sob, "I-I was bad, I didn't stay in the room, like she said." He was shaking his head against Arthur's shoulder, and crying, as he continued in the darkness, "I didn't stay quiet."

"Alfie…" Arthur began, but Alfred continued to cry despite his attempt of reassurance with his sobs of apologies. "I'm sorry, tell her I'm sorry. I'll be good, this time, if she comes back…"

Arthur said nothing, but shook his head, as he rocked a bit faster, and petted Alfred's back and hair, trying to shush him to sleep. At least, he tried to calm him down. He hated seeing his nephew cry. It hurt him so much. It made him feel even sicker. "Alfie, child, everything will be alright. Everything is alright, shush now. Don't cry." Please don't cry."

"'M sorry…" Alfred said, sniffling, as he allowed his uncle to rock him back to sleep. Eventually, the little boy calmed down and his breathing slowed and turned to shallow breaths. He was asleep, but Arthur kept rocking him.

He felt so sick of this. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't to yell and fuss, but he also wanted to cry and be held like he was doing to Alfred. He could only imagine how the little boy was feeling. He had seen and gone through so much, all within such a short period of four years.

"Don't be sorry," Arthur said to no one; he thought he saw something gleam in the night, before he recognized it as his own tears falling from his face and reflecting off the light coming forth from his dark window. It was pitch black outside. He couldn't see anything. "Everything's alright. Shh," he said, "I'll help make everything okay, if you let me."

…But could he undo every thing that had been wrongfully done to his nephew?

**What was right in this world, anymore?**

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**How was this chapter?**

Wow, sweet Mother of vodka and schnitzel, I'm late. DX

I have an excuse…that I don't fell like typing. :/ (AKA: My flash drive was stolen, and I had to retype and find all of my documents. I still don't have them all, and it's been like a month…?)

MAY ALL THEIR BACON BUUUURRRN. *evil DERP face*

Um, how did everyone like this chapter? Was it at least better in clarifying some things and further advancing the plot? I don't want to leave you guys in the dark forever….:(

**READ AND REVIEW**.


	5. A Light In His Eyes Again

**I'll Be There**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

Warning: Minor bullying

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Ivan busied himself with putting away a colored binder in his locker. His violet eyes tracked quickly to the other binder he would need for his next class, which was after lunch, which he was really dreading. Lunch was never a good time of the school day for him.

The Russian teen sighed. Yao wasn't technically in his grade, so he only saw him in between his classes on school campus and then before he got on the bus for the courses he took over at a neighboring school. Not only that, but Ivan's mind was still plagued with problems even outside of the Hell he was to call "school."

Natalya was acting strangely, and was talking to kids that weren't very good for her, despite how the how her older siblings tried to tell her so. Katyusha had found out about her credits to get into college. She had done very well, considering her circumstances, but when told of average costs, the eldest had burst into tears. With no other income besides her job of waiting tables for a nice diner, and still keeping up with classes and raising her two siblings at home, by herself, with their father ill; Katyusha couldn't afford the classes. But she was conflicted, because she didn't want to give up her dream either.

Sighing, and closing the locker door a tad too loudly; drawing eyes that only snickered and raised brows, eyes that rolled and didn't bother to throw him looks of suspicion. He wasn't a monster. He was a teen, a human, a living being, the same as them. But they treated him different. They had always treated him different. The main reasons he was told, were because of his mother, and the obvious evidence of his nationality.

So what if he was a Russian, he wasn't out to blow up the country simply because he didn't like capitalism. Ivan liked the idea of a free market, actually, and could ramble on about it for hours if anyone would bother to listen. But no one cared to listen. A few had even gone so far as to call him a spy for the Russian government. That had been a terrible year, and though the words were simply that and the tears were dry and his bruises and scratches long gone, the pain was still there: It was there in testament to all he had had to endure and would continue to endure as long as he lived.

So maybe it was the other reason: that his mother had been a well-known (and tried) prostitute back in Russia; that she had done things that would always haunt her past, present and future. There were things that made her children look suspicious, especially Ivan. It was how his own father had once looked at him for a long time, and then cried, not even knowing if the only son he had was even his.

But his father was sick now, a disease that ran through his family, it was slowly pushing him down. He was still able to go around now, but before long, Ivan knew it would finally break his father.

Pushing away the thoughts of his father, until he could see him on the next available visitor at the hospital; Ivan continued on to the school cafeteria. He hadn't had time to pack his lunch last night, trying to do his English homework. Ivan loved to read, but his English wasn't always at his best, unfortunately. He would stutter and stammer when reading aloud, and speak in Russian out of habit. It didn't help that no one would ever bother to try and help him; that he was still like this because no one wanted to help him.

Waiting in line was sometimes fun for Ivan; he could hear all sorts of things if he listened. He had good hearing. He had learned last week that some girl was pregnant but she couldn't pinpoint the father because of a party she had gotten drunk at and the realization that she had slept with three separate males. Two of them were over eighteen; one of them was a felon who wasn't even supposed to out of his house to any social gathering on account of his probation.

Also in that same week, he had heard that someone had seen Ivan with a little child (which Ivan assumed to be Alfred) and they were thoughts on how Ivan had a little kid if no one had ever knew he had dated.

It didn't help that Ivan never commented on this, or if people came up to him to ask if Alfred was his in the first place. They always assumed. They didn't know, and just assumed. They became rumors and whispered gossip that would spread all around the school and cause unnecessary panic.

But today: Today, Ivan was not having a good time in waiting in line.

People were staring at him, watching him like he was dangerous creature and not a person. He could feel their eyes. He could feel them see how he had earphones in his ears, and could already hear the whispers of 'spy gadget' and 'commie music'.

Ivan was listening to Green Day.

The Russian took his lunch, and paid his money, not even caring how the cashier made him put the money on the counter and not her hand. Like he was contaminated.

Sitting at an empty table like always, he tried to enjoy the semi-decent cafeteria food; reminding himself to pack his lunch when he had time at home. The food here was nothing compared to homemade, and would often cause him to get sick. He had food allergies, and while they weren't severe like hives and rash and vomiting, the tongue swelling and headaches and nausea were no less comfortable.

Luckily today's lunch was on the safe side, and Ivan could eat a bit easier, knowing that there little chance of something happening to him. After a few bites within sitting done, he switches songs on his mp3 player, trying to find something else. Someone comes up behind him. He hides the device, and hears a scoff.

When he feels them leave, he brings the device up again, and continues on his song quest. Finding one to suit his mood, albeit not what the majority of his school would enjoy, Ivan continues to eat for a little while longer. He is alone, until Yao comes in at the drop of a hat.

"Gosh," the Chinese boy groans. "I hate all this extra work, aru!" The slimmer boy pulls out his own lunch box and begins to dive into a bowl of rice with a pair of chopsticks he had seemingly pulled from thin air. "How's life, Ivan?"

"Same as always: tedious and filled with the yammering of idiots," Ivan replied, and then eyed the jello on his lunch plate. He poked it; it jiggled, and looked safe enough. Spooning it and taking a bite, Ivan found it to be cherry. He could deal with it, it wasn't his favorite flavor, but it would do.

"Hm, well, I can only be here for a little while," Yao said. He was still stuffing his face, and somehow finished the rice to eat some sort of fried beef and vegetable side dish. Ivan wasn't even paying this any mind. He had known the other long enough. He didn't pay much attention to his eating habits; the boy usually had to skip his breakfast to catch the bus and would always be hungry and eat like a rabid animal at lunch.

The pair chatted for a bit, Ivan trying to convince Yao of alternative metal bands and Yao saying Ivan should try on a panda bear suit. Ivan rejected the animal costume politely, but Yao was not as nice in his putting down of alternative metal.

"They scream in my ear, aru!" Yao declared, stabbing a broccoli rather hard, and Ivan smiled. As he replied, "Well, you could get used to it, or listen to the bands that I gave you so that you would have fewer screams to listen to. One of the two is better than nothing, Yao-Yao."

Said Asian wrinkled his nose at the nickname, and then replied, "Whatever. I'm still not doing it anytime soon. Oh wait –!" Yao paused in eating, "I have to stay afterschool today, will you be fine walking home alone today?"

Ivan smiled, though he was uneasy. He didn't much like walking alone, but he could do it, if he didn't have much of a choice. "I'll be fine," he said. He sighed, as he cast a look over his shoulder to a group of popular kids where a few girls were staring at him. Some were flirty, one was making a lewd motion with her hand and mouth, and one was openly glaring at him. The guys weren't much better, although most of them simply glared and scoffed.

Ivan groaned, and pushed his near empty tray aside. He went back to changing songs, and Yao looked to the table. They ignored him, and pretended to be doing something else. They were two-faced and deceitful, always turning the other way when they had done something wrong and never being punished for it.

"Well then," Yao started, as he packed up his lunch items. "I have to finish something for some mess I'm going to have to finish by tonight if I want to keep my mother from yelling at me again, aru."

Ivan raised a brow, pausing on In Fear and Faith, another metal band. "Im is in trouble again?" Yao nodded, as he sighed. "My stupid brother made a B on some doctorate exam, and Ma flipped out, aru. She banned him from coming home until his grade went higher, like it could get any higher. Im is at the top of his class, aru!"

Ivan tried to pat his friend on the shoulder, trying to appear sympathetic. He hated seeing Yao in distress, but he couldn't really think of much to help the other. The last time he had tried to help Yao on a project, he had been kicked out and Yao had said he had gotten in trouble. The Asian's mother was strict.

"I'm going to go to the computer lab and finish my paper, Ivan," Yao said, standing up. He waved, and the Russian waved back. "I'll text you if I'm still alive, when the day ends for home, okay?"

Ivan shrugged, "Don't stress yourself over it, Yao-Yao. Do what you have to do, and take it easy." The Asian smiled and patted Ivan on the head, while he still had the advantage of the way taller student sitting down.

"You're a good friend to me, aru," Yao said, and with another good bye and promise to not overexert yourself, he walked out. Ivan was alone for all of three seconds, before someone was at his shoulder. Someone with long hair smelled of expensive flowery perfume and was chewing bubble gum.

"Sooooo, Bragniski, Ivan - can I call you that?" Said Russian hid his stiffen well. He really didn't feel like dealing with the other students right now. He had enough on his plate for today as it was. "So, I heard you had a kid. Wanna tell me what's up with that?"

The owner of the voice was some tanned popular girl who had on more than three layers of make-up and was barely following dress code with how low her shirt dipped and hiked up on her middle, and also how short her skirt was. She was Selina, her mother of Seychelles, and her father French. She spoke fluent French, but other than that, she didn't truly embrace her heritage.

However, she was using the hips and sexual appeal her mother had passed down to her, as she tried to slide closer to Ivan. She battered her long lashes; Ivan blinked and looked away, blushing. The Russian was never good with dealing with girls, besides his sisters.

"Come on, big guy," Selina purred, plucking out one earphone. "Tell me where you got the little kid. One of my girls showed me a picture of you and him, he's pretty cute. Where's his momma?" Ivan bit his tongue. He didn't have any right to exploit Alfred's business. He wouldn't exploit the child's business.

Selina literally pressed further, trying to mold the shape of her chest onto Ivan, and making the Russian more uncomfortable by the minute. "Is his momma here, like, in our school?" she asked, and Ivan felt it was safest to answer this question before he high-tailed it out of there.

"No, she doesn't go here," Ivan managed to say, before he finished with, "Excuse me. I'm not comfortable. Good bye, _do svidaniya_," Ivan said, and then he took his finished tray and belongings and left his trash away. Selina slumped against air, only catching herself in time to avoid falling over but enough to catch sight of Ivan's clearly distressed face. She grinned, at his retreating form. She looked to her table, thinking her plan had succeeded.

Ivan tried to ignore how the eyes of everyone were drawn to him as he walked down the hallways, until he came to the computer lab. He found Yao, panda bear-shaped earphones in his ears as his fingers flew over the keys. Ivan silently ducked in the seat next to him.

Yao paused, blinked, and then opened a new document:

**[Too much drama?]**

Ivan nodded his head against his folded arms. His ears were still red. His face felt way too hot. He still had one more class period to go before he could go home. Damn it all to Hell.

**[Welcome to my life. You may bitch and moan.]**

Ivan tried to raise his head to smile at Yao, but found the other's head still at the monitor. The Russian scoffed at his friend's display of detachment and sole attention on his research paper. Ivan would bet good money that the other wasn't even done with three pages, and was paying more attention to the dancing kitten's music in his earphones on YouTube.

Ivan smiled, looking at the document and seeing the word count: 2 ½ pages. With that mind, and money still tucked into his pocket, the Russian went back to laying his head on folded arms and ignoring everything for the rest of the lunch period.

When the bell rang for the last period, Yao was shaking Ivan awake. The Russian stirred begrudgingly, and then stood up to stretch. His bones creaked, and he hid a yawn behind his hand. But unbeknownst to him, as he walked away after stretching, a few students (girls who loved to gossip and were best at spreading any rumors) caught sight of a small belly button piercing over a well-toned stomach.

Both males missed the gasp of simultaneous murmurs of: "Well damn…"

When both boys had left the room, they chatted only briefly before they split ways for different classes. Yao went to his, and Ivan reluctantly ducked into his. He picked a seat in the back, by the window, and far from the popular clique on the far side. But he couldn't already feel their looks and hear their snickers.

Taking out his homework as the teacher came around, and then trying not to fall asleep as the man droned on and on. He got sidetracked due to the popular students asking random questions, and ultimately lost half an hour due to their nonsense. Ivan stared out the window. He had read what he thought would put him ahead in his reading, and then put the book aside. He didn't feel like reading anymore.

He heard the soft sound of folded paper hitting his desk, and then looked down at his hands. Sure enough, there it was. But did he need to open the latest mocking insult on his "loose mommy" or "commie heritage"? Nope.

But did he want to? Kind of. So with a thought telling him he was going to regret doing it later, the Russian opened it and found something he hadn't been expecting:

**[Haha! we'll find ur baby-momma soon, commie! there's NO way that U got that cute of a kid by urself!]**

Ivan blinked, and his eyes twitched. He torn the note in half, and then torn it again. He hid it away on his desk, and tried to resist the urge to glare. But he found himself paying less attention to his teacher than he would have liked. Ah well, he was ahead anyways.

The teacher assigned homework, and Ivan wrote it down. He did a few problems ahead, before the bell rang and then he was packing up to leave. Some kids tried to call for his attention, but seeing as Ivan had all that he needed to go straight home – He didn't bother to give himself a migraine by listening to them. It would only do well to spread more rumors about him, than he needed. And like he needed any rumors about him to begin with.

On his walk home, his phone buzzed in his pocket, after checking it, he found that Katyusha had given the key to Natalia and she was staying a bit late to gain extra hours. Ivan sighed. Natalia liked to come home late, even though she was two hours behind him, if Ivan came home at 3, she wouldn't come home until near 7 if she could help it. Ivan didn't even bother to text his younger sister about the news. Why would he? It wouldn't do much good.

He continued walking, trying to feign contentment in walking around, when he passed by a café. There was nothing special about it, but something about it drew his eye. It seemed cozy, and in the colder outside, it looked warm and inviting in comparison.

Taking a chance with the little money he had with him in his pocket, from lunch, Ivan went inside, only to come across a surprising sight. Ivan blinked, "Alfred?"

Said baby blonde looked up from where he had poking at the warm and broken muffin on his plate to turn at the sound of a familiar voice. When his baby blue eyes caught sight of Alfred, he was out of his stool and running across the floor to practically launch himself at the taller boy.

Ivan laughed, drawing some patrons' eyes and Arthur's included, as he tickled the toddler's chin and picked him up. Alfred was poking the Russian teen's nose and giggling, smiling. Despite how he had been fidgety and looking like a sore-footed puppy all morning. It was such a drastic change from how he had been acting previously.

Arthur strode from where he had been standing earlier, it having been a bit of a slow morning, and managed a polite smile as he greeted the younger. "Well, at least, the boy is happy now…"

Ivan nodded, though it was cut short as Alfred began to pick at his uniform. Poking at his school badge, instead of his nose, and drawing coos from older women and mothers at the sweet image, as Ivan simply enjoyed feeling accepted - although poked – by the toddler in his arms.

"Take him back to his chair, will you?" Arthur said, walking back to Alfred's seat at the counter where the Brit found he could watch him best. Ivan nodded, and upon taking him back, Arthur found one of his large brows twitching a bit in jealousy, as Ivan easily coaxed the smaller boy to eat.

It had taken Arthur five minutes to even get Alfred to sit still, when he was surrounded by people, much less not get up and hid behind his legs every time someone new came in. But here was Ivan easily talking the other to eating and also showing him a short movie on his phone.

But despite it all, Arthur found himself feeling slightly happy at seeing Alfred at better ease around Ivan. Even if he was still suspicious of the boy, and why Alfred took to him so much better, than he did to Arthur sometimes; he was still happy that Alfred was happy.

Even if the whole world was dark, he remembered how Alfred had been able to light a room up with his smiles. He was seeing that bright piece of Alfred again, whenever the Russian teen was around to remind the American toddler. He liked seeing that smile, even if he was unsure of the person who was leading him to do it. But he would overlook it for him, because:

**All was right, whenever that smile was in place.**

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**How was this chapter?**

Happy New Year, everybody! Hope everybody is sober enough to be able to enjoy this update and anything else they decide to read today!

**READ AND REVIEW**.

[**NEXT UPDATE**: Ivan is babysitting, when an unwelcome set of guests arrive.]


	6. Things to Regret

**I'll Be There**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

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Ivan busied himself from the noises of gossip and teens transitioning for their last class of the day. He debated on whether he needed a certain textbook, finally deciding to read over the new unit before class at home, so he would at least be familiar with the words before he made a complete fool of himself on Monday. He was just putting a small pack of paper in his backpack to put into his binder later, his eyes focused on the ground, when a certain pair of feet came into view.

Pink painted feet in familiar white wedge sandals.

Ivan nearly squeaked in his throat, head rising quickly as to not catch a glimpse of what was under Selina's short skirt. Said girl giggled at his modesty and sidled closer, catching an eye from her friends to get on with it, as Ivan fumbled with the books in his locker and trying to shut it to leave as quickly as he was able. Why was Selina, one of the more popular and cutest girls in the school, talking to him?

He could have sworn that she had mispronounced his name in their shared Math class, when she had declared them partners on an assignment…and then proceed to text her friends, and leave the Russian teen to do all of the work.

"Hey there, Big Sexy," Selina purred and Ivan's head burned brightly and his voice choked in his throat, as she continued. "Care to explain to me, why you've been ignoring me all week? Hm? Did some girl try to take you down? You shouldn't listen to them, baby~"

"Uh," Ivan murmured, trying to think of an excuse. "I have to get to class…"

Selina smiled sweetly, almost too sweetly. She tried to lean up on her tiptoes to reach his cheek, and wrap her slim arms around her shoulders. She gave a kicked puppy look, trying to appear hurt by the mention. "Oh come on, you got good grades," she began, "You can afford to skip a few classes, right?"

Ivan frowned down at the girl, as he caught a glance to the side to see her posse on the other side of the hallway. He could see them now, the crowds had thinned. He put a firm hand on the strap of his backpack, feeling his good mood dampen more than h would have liked.

He should have known. It had been too good to be true, after all. Fucking popularity. This was exactly why he chose to be a loner, some days. Popularity was the root of everything. Ivan's shoulders tensed and then slumped slightly, as Selina continued to try and coax him to stay behind. Of course, no one would actually like him. Yao could hardly hang out with him anymore, what with his mother forever breathing down his neck.

But then again, maybe that was what all mothers do - maybe, Ivan had never known, because he had never had a true mother.

Some feeling, something he had long thought he had buried a long time ago, began to well up and Ivan roughly shook off the pretty girl on his arm and nearly stomped his way to class. The door was open, thankfully, and saved from feeling any of his wrath. The Russian teen took his usual seat in the near back, next to the window, and folded his arms over the desk before he sat his head atop of them.

Mother. His mother. He tried to remember what she looked like - conjuring up the fuzzy mental image of a slender woman, not much unlike his big sister, but her hair was a darker blonde. He could remember that she had freckles, like him, but her eyes were almost blue-green in color, a bit wide and more calculating than warm. She had ample curves, and a chest as endowed as Katyusha's. She had a proud nose, and her lips made a Cheshire-like smile.

**...**

She had called him "Vanya", once upon a time. Before she and his father had begun to fight. Where was she going out so late in the night? Why was she never home to watch the children? Why wouldn't she look at them the same anymore? Was something wrong?

Her reply was always the same: "It's none of your concern. Don't bother me with futile questions."

She turned exceptionally harsher with her son, Ivan, after he started growing up and showing more features.

She would look at him, and then look away. Sometimes, leave the room altogether. She would slowly refuse to make up his plate, because of how much he ate. She stopped playing with him, despite how it used to cause her so much joy. How she would sometimes go into his room late at night, when everyone else was asleep and go touch his face and say, "This wasn't supposed to happen..."

In time, everyone in their town became to catch up. They began to notice the similarities and differences in the children, in comparison to their parents. Katyusha was a perfect blend of her parents; her womanly figure from her mother, but her features from her father. Eyes would turn to Ivan and then the frowns started. They began to notice.

How his nose stood out more on his face, how his eyes slanted, and he kept growing big and stronger. How his hair was a tad too light to be like his father's, despite how he was the lighter blonde of his parents; how high his metabolism was, despite his parents' opposite trait. How he laughed, how his freckles were paler than his mother's and his father had none, how deep his voice was becoming to be, and how in early infancy, he had a couple of heart problems that couldn't be linked to either of his parents.

Ivan Andrev Bragniski was nearly nothing alike to his parents, and it was when he was starting grade school that it finally showed - when Ivan was starting to outgrow his older sister, who was of a higher grade, and his humble father was signing papers for him to go to school early. How his age became a question, rather than a known answer. It hadn't matched something.

That had been of the last blocks to fall into place, and no sooner had it happened, that Ivan's mother had tried to explain. But it was a lie. Everything she said now was lies. Said lies nearly smoothed out his father's fears, made everything all better, until it was becoming obvious she was only using him. When it looked like he would turn, she became pregnant yet again - this time, no one would be able to deny it was his.

Natalia was her father in female form, she was skinny at first, but soon plumped out to become slim. Her hair was the same shade of winter blonde. Her nose was slim, like his, and she had his eyes, a pretty shade of dark blue. She didn't smile much as a baby, and as she got older, she began to take on his attitude of smiling as well - While it was rare to see her physically smile with her lips, her eyes did more than make up for it.

His father was more than pleased with his new daughter, everyone was, and for a while, it took everyone's mind off of Ivan. Well, that is, until his mother called from a station.

She had been arrested. For...prostitution.

And to make matters worse, it was with a man, which could have passed for Ivan's father. Every feature was there and explained in full clarity. His mother could not hide this fact, nor could she deny it. Everything was coming out.

And everything was coming apart.

The whole town turned against her. The people who had once been her friends, would now turn against her, and give her a cold shoulder. People were frowning upon her, and whenever she went out with the family, until it got to the point where she just stayed home. She couldn't handle the looks thrown at her, and all of the whispered words. She began to cry and drink heavily.

The town became to turn more pity to Ivan's father, and Ivan, himself. As a child, he hadn't understood more than his mother was crying and his father would never smile like he used to. But when the townspeople would call him over for a cookie or an extra treat, as a simple child, he had taken them and thanked them all, not understanding at all.

Katyusha caught him doing said things, and ran to tell their mother. Said mother took the new toy that he had been given and broke it with her bare hands. Ivan had gotten the worst tongue lashing ever, and he had even cried in public, because of it. That made Natalia cry, as she was forever bonded to Ivan's hip for whatever reason, and seeing them cry made Katyusha cry, even as the eldest. Their mother, almost fully broken by her fall from grace, had then looked up to see so many faces glaring at her, that she had taken her children home and simply gave them all a treat and then locked herself in her room.

That would be the night that Ivan's father came home with a set of papers and would ask his mother to sign them. Ivan had heard her sobs and pleas from down the hallway, and even though he tried to investigate, Katyusha held him back and told to go back to sleep with Natalia. She had said it with tears in her eyes.

There was a space in his memory, that Ivan recognized it as the suppressed memories of coming overseas to America for the first time. He had asked about his mother, nearly every day, kept asking for her, and no one answered him. He tried to write letters for her, but then school started, and the poor child was trying to run him haggard with learning enough English to pass a grade. He did, and exceptionally so.

He tried to boast this to his father, but when he asked to show it to his mother, "so that she can smile again for me" as his only reason, Ivan saw the first tear sprout from his father's eyes.

That's when he learned the truth, and right as soon as he learned it, he grew up. He no longer asked for his mother, and he put away the only picture he had of her. He claimed to have "lost it", when in reality, he had put it between his matresses. He tried to forget her, and later, he would regret it.

Like now. More than a decade later, he regretted it.

**...**

"Mr. Bragniski? The answer, please, if you would like to join class again."

"The War of 1812, between Great Britian and America over the initial invasion of Canada - a British territory." Ivan answered fluidly, as if he had been paying attention the entire time. He rubbed at one sore eye, regretting pressing into his arm so hard.

"Correct, good to see you were listening, moving on."

Ivan nodded, and started to sit up. He might as well look like he was paying attention now. His eyes unconsciously made a move over the room. There were still a few kids looking at him. When he blinked, they had turned back around - so for the few of the popular cluster in the far right. They continued to study him, a bunch of them grinning.

He wasn't so much suprised when a note came by him. He didn't read it. Only silently tear it up and hide it away, so that he wouldn't get in trouble. When class ended, he was one of the first to leave. He didn't wait for Yao, and he was nearly home, when he passed by the cafe that he gone into the other day.

Arthur was working again, and Alfred was making a mess at the counter. Something flickered in his chest, a small longing to be a part of something and be accepted. But he took his hand from the window. He was about to walk past the restaurant, when someone's hand came upon his arm - he flinched and his arm recoiled from them.

"Ivan? What's wrong? What made you leave so early, aru?" Yao almost looked hurt, and Ivan immediately felt guilty. His friend, only and best friend didn't deserve his anger. Yao had only been good to him, since he came to live here, had always been a loyal friend. He didn't deserve someone else's deserved backslash.

Ivan sighed, running a hand through his hair and began to apologize, giving his friend a short synopsis of his day. Yao's nose wrinkled, as he made a small face. "That is one of the reasons why I can't stand them," he began to say, "They think they're entitled to know everything baout everybody. Like they knew anything to begin with."

The smile that began to come upon Ivan's face was natural, and it felt good. The Russian teen gestured to the cafe, "Wanna eat before we go home?" Yao took one look inside, and almost said no, until he saw the pastry display. His entire face changed, and it wasn't surprising when he was trying to yank Ivan through the doors.

The Asian had a serious sweet tooth, not even one that his mother could break. Pushing aside the mention of mothers, Ivan waved to Arthur, who managed a nod back as he continued to write down an order. Alfred was happy to see Ivan again, as per normal these days since his first venture inside, and the little boy was even warming up to Yao. If by warming up to him, meant stole half of his danish and smile with his teeth covered in cream cheese.

The laugh Ivan made was natural, and it made Yao giggle. Alfred was clapping, happy that they were happy, and the customers in the cafe were happier by watching the scene.

As Alfred sucked on his teeth to finish off the rest of the danish, and Yao had to remain satisified with what he was left with, Ivan felt happy again. There was little to regret here, he noticed. He did not regret finding Alfred and helping him find someone else to take care of them. He was happy for the child, happy that he had a good family that cared about him.

He was simply happy for him, and the regrets he had, they had nothing to do with Alfred. As they should be and should continue to stay that well.

**All was well, nothing to burden his mind with unhappiness.**

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**How was this chapter? **

I have no excuse on being so late. That is all.

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